


Misunderstandings

by nerdyydragon



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Ficlets [15]
Category: Kingsman (2014), Kingsman (2015), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Poor Eggsy, but not enough to warrant the graphic tag, okay so there's violence, so here's youre heads-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyydragon/pseuds/nerdyydragon
Summary: Spies are, above all, excellent eavesdroppers. But in this line of work, it's very similar to lurking on your crush's social media account - simple reconnaissance until your feelings get hurt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I. Own. none. Of. This.. Zilch.

“That’s not the point, Merlin. It’s that it can’t ever happen.”

“I’ve known you your whole life. That’s bullshit and you know it. Who are you really protecting here?”

As much as spies snoop and listen in on conversations they shouldn’t really be privy too, if there was one conversation that Eggsy wished he hadn’t stopped to overhear, it was this one.

“The two of us - we’re too different. It wouldn’t end well.” From what he could tell, Harry was exasperated, which meant he couldn’t be talking about Merlin.

“But the lad deserves -”

“He deserves someone who isn’t… who isn’t me.”

“You’d better have a reason other than that. Because it is nowhere near good enough.” Although confused, Eggy’s realized that whatever was being discussed behind this door was brought to a close, and he sprinted the hallway until he was out of sight, then wandered the grounds to mull over what he heard.

They must have been talking about him. There was no other active knight who Merlin called ‘lad’ (unless it was a mutual friend who happened to be younger and he was being a patronizing sod), and recruitment trials for the empty seats at the table weren’t due to start for another week. There was also, of course, the possibility that the two of them had found out about Eggsy’s…. feelings, for he didn’t even quite know what they were… for the reigning Arthur. They were spies, after all. The thought of the soft rejection, too-polite interaction and the lessening of quality time with the older man as a result uncoiled something sulphuric in his stomach, and Eggsy could almost taste the bile on the back of his tongue as a result.

“Agent Galahad, I’d like to see you in my office, if you would.” Merlin crackled through his glasses feed. The very idea of going anywhere near either man for the remainder of the day was unsettling, but Eggsy told him that he would be there in a few minutes, and began to make his way inside the manor.

Steeling his reserve, Eggsy pushed open the door and was greeted with what looked like a very intense, angry staring contest between his handler and the king.

“Hello Harry,” Eggsy said, and gave him a shy smile. He managed to hold it through Harry’s stiffening and gaping as though he might say something, before offering a terse nod of his head and a quick exit. He tried not to feel hurt, but it was futile. “You said you wanted to see me, Merlin?”

“I’ve got a mission for you.”

—

Five days. That’s how long he had been camped out in a low-profile motel room digging up information on the movements of a terror cell bent on assassinating a Russian government official while they were at a conference, and thus instigating a war. Eggsy was beginning to hate these assholes. For god’s sake he had almost been shot no less than twenty seven times - a new record for one go, V-Day aside. Walking down the street like he was was a dangerous activity.

“I don’t think they’re actually going to do it. Haven’t got the balls.” Though he had been talking to Merlin through his feed while pretending to be on the phone, it was just his luck that one of said hated assholes had managed to sneak up on him and pull him into an alley. His last thought before he was knocked unconscious and a burlap bag thrown over his head was that if he makes it out alive, Merlin will kill him.

Coming to in pitch darkness, shackled at the wrists bent behind his body and surrounded by people who were arguing heatedly in a language he didn’t know was not a feeling Eggsy would ever like to experience again. Chilling was one word to describe it, as the cold fear of the very real likelihood of death began to set in.

The bag was pulled off his head, and he took stock of his surroundings. Bunker-type room, door that hinges inward, six heavily-armed guards. Likely more outside. He didn’t have any information on whatever building he was in, but judging by the lack of windows, he was underground. He’d have to fight his way up at least one flight of stairs to get out.  _ Shit _ . He’d had worse odds, but not as unarmed as he was.

One of the men walked over to him and crouched.

“So you are the man who has been following us.” He said in heavily accented English, but Eggsy couldn’t place from where. His glasses had been damaged at some point as well, so he had no way of knowing if Merlin had audio/visual or if he even knew where he was. “You must be very lucky, to have lived this long.” Eggsy glared at him.

“I excel at what I do.” The man chuckled.

“We shall see.”

What happened next was a blur of motion and sound, as Eggsy cracked his forehead into the man’s nose and rolled to the side, twisting until his arms were in front of his body again. If ever he was pressed in the future, he wouldn’t be able to say exactly how he dispatched six men with only his strength and a foot-long stretch of chain, only that he had done it. Locating the key and pilfering several guns off of the bodies that lay strewn across the floor like rag dolls, Eggsy took a breath and pulled open the door. He found it odd that there was no one in the hallway, but he readied a gun and made his was towards the stairwell at the end of the tunnel.

There was another door at the top of the stairs and two armed guards outside of it, no trouble with the element of surprise. The building he found himself in seemed to be an abandoned storefront of some kind, with a perfect view of the politicians now meeting in the square. Two stories up in a window of the building across the street was a sniper, invisible from every angle except the one that Eggsy was currently occupying. He was dressed similarity to the eight men that had just been dealt with, so he figured that was the man they were after.

Darting across the street, Eggsy put his estate skills to good use and made it to the room two down from where he needed to be, slipping inside the open window and out the door of the apartment. Moving down two rooms, he picked the lock with a handy little set that R&D had been working on, and slipped inside. Fortunately for the bigwigs in the square, the gunman had been distracted when Eggsy scraped the lock. The fatigue of the day’s events began to catch up with him in a rather unfortunate bout of timing, and the lucky hits the man landed Eggsy knew cracked at least two of his ribs. If he was going to have any hope of not being completely demolished by this man, he needed to play dirty. In a risky feint that could have gotten his neck broken, Eggsy thrust his signet ring under the man’s chin and discharged it, sighing in relief as he dropped to the floor, very much dead.

Mission accomplished, Eggsy straightened his suit and quickly made his way out of the building and back to the motel to collect the small duffel of things he had turned out not to need, then out of town to an abandoned airstrip where a jet was waiting to fly him back to London.

Surveying the injuries he had sustained over the course of the day, he realized that while he hadn’t gotten shot, several bullets had grazed him, and he had enough cuts and cracked ribs to warrant at least a few hours worth of care under Gaius in medical. Asking his pilot to retrieve him when they touched down, Eggsy stumbled into the back room and into a waiting bed, where he slept for the remainder of the flight.

—

Eggsy had known, from the very beginning, that Harry Hart was dangerous. His first real encounter with the man had been him utterly wiping the floor with his ex-step-father’s thugs without breaking a sweat and not a hair out of place. Eggsy had seen the video of Harry under the influence of Valentine’s media signal. He had seen him angry. He had seen him cold and lethal, and he had seen him sickly sweet enough that he could have been stabbing a man and nobody would have been surprised. The most terrifying look he had ever seen on the man, however, was the one he was currently sporting. Pacing the tarmac, his hair a complete mess and a look of composed distress - something that really shouldn’t be possible, but had somehow been brought to life - ricocheting throughout his frame. It was not something Eggsy ever wanted to see on the man again, but he was also torn as to why it existed in the first place.

Descending the stairs and making his way across the hangar, he watched as Harry’s pacing ceased and he turned to face him, a pained expression clouding his features.

“Hello Harry,” he said softly, reminiscent of before he had left.

“You’re alive.” It wasn’t a question. Eggsy took Harry’s right hand and put it over his heart.

“I am.”

“In light of recent events, I realize that I haven’t been particularly forthcoming. There’s - there’s something I feel I need to tell you. You deserve to know.” The weight of Harry’s hand on his chest felt suddenly like a vice constricting his heart. This was it. This was the blow that would break him to pieces.

“It’s alright, Harry. You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“You do?” He simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet for fear of the cascade of emotions seeping through. He swallowed, and made a go of it anyway.

“Yes, I do.” Harry took a half-step closer and crushed Eggsy’s mouth to his, as though it had been the declaration he had been waiting for. A surprised sound wormed its way from his throat when he realized that Harry was kissing him like he had spent weeks in the desert and Eggsy was a freshwater spring. Falling into the embrace, he let himself feel, sighing contentedly when Harry pulled away and rested his forehead against his.

—

(Post-two years)

“ _ A man’s name should appear in the paper three times, _ ” Harry had told him, what seemed like ages ago now. “ _ When he’s born, when he marries, and when he dies. _ ”

Perhaps Eggsy’s name had appeared in the newspaper too much for him to be considered a proper gentleman by Kingsman standards, but reading “Gary Unwin-Hart” on the soft print paper was one he could be proud of.


End file.
